


(nec)romance isn't dead.

by erenyaeger



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft, but not for long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erenyaeger/pseuds/erenyaeger
Summary: While grieving for his dead boyfriend Otabek, Yuri learns a few things:1.	Necromancy is the art of raising the dead, and it can be done with witchcraft.2.	Witchcraft is real- the witches who practice it say so.3.	Yuri wants to use witchcraft to perform necromancy on Otabek.





	(nec)romance isn't dead.

**Author's Note:**

> _Hello friends,_
> 
> _This is... quite a bit gorier, smuttier, grittier, and overall **darker** than what I've been writing lately. Please be advised, it is rated as explicit essentially for all of the gore that comes with the necromancy escapades and for some filthy, filthy smut afterwords._
> 
> _I was in a strange blue funk when I first thought about this idea, and it just wouldn't let me focus on any other fanworks until I saw it to completion. Although it is a bit of a departure from the usual, I can't say I'm not pleased with it. I enjoyed creating lore for this piece immensely, and I hope that it is enjoyable to read as well (fear not- the "angst with a happy ending" tag has been used for a reason). One day perhaps I will write a companion piece for this._
> 
> _As always, kudos and comments are whole-heartedly appreciated._

* * *

 

  _Why on earth is Yuri Plisetsky digging up a grave in the dead of night,_ one might ask, even though that is a completely foolish question.

 

It makes complete sense considering the events that led up to this situation.

 

It’s like asking why rain falls. There is a natural chain of events that leads up to the resulting rain, of course, and so too is there a completely natural, reasonable chain of events that led to Yuri Plisetsky digging up the earth above his lover’s grave.

 

But this isn’t the beginning of the story- nor is it the end. This isn’t the rain. Really, this excavation is just a piece in the middle. Quite reasonable, when you consider how it came to be.

 

* * *

 

Yuri’s life has been marked by loss.

 

He never knew his father, but the loss of his mother was one of the earliest events that he could remember in his youth. Tragic, but unfortunately a good predictor for future milestones in the blonde’s life.

 

Luckily for him, he was too young to really understand what was going on until much later, far past the point where he would have felt a need to cry- he let anger set in, and tried to avoid thinking about it much further.

 

The next major loss he could remember was the family home- with Yuri skating and his grandfather alone, the man ultimately needed to sell the property in order to afford an apartment closer to his work and marginally closer to his grandchild. That house held the last memories that Yuri had of the rest of his family.

 

He tried hard not to cry when his grandfather told him over the phone. He tried harder when he hung up and needed to hand the ballet camp’s phone off to the next aspiring skater.

 

Following that, he lost the closest thing he had to an older brother to a drunk Japanese man. He didn’t dwell too much on that one- Yuuri was nice enough sober, and he supposed Victor would have been a terrible mentor anyway.

 

He just tried to pretend that one didn’t sting.

 

He couldn’t pretend to be unaffected, though, when his grandfather ultimately succumbed to his illness. That loss was different, though. It hurt worse, far worse than any of the others, but that time he wasn’t alone.

 

He found comfort in the arms of his best friend, recently-turned boyfriend Otabek when he received the news- for the first time, Yuri was able to find relief.

 

Otabek knew all of the right things to say. He knew how to hold Yuri in his arms, how to comb his fingers through Yuri’s soft, blonde hair, whispering gentle promises of _I’m here, you’re safe, it’s okay to cry now, I’ve got you, I’ll stay with you._

_I’ll stay with you._

And when he said it, Yuri realized that all he had ever wanted in his life was for someone- Otabek, specifically- to stay with him.

 

Things... weren’t okay, but they seemed like they were going to be okay. The loss of his grandfather impacted Yuri deeply, but Otabek was just so _good_ at being there. He stayed with Yuri night after night, even as the days stretched into months, even as the months gave way to a year.

 

Ultimately, Otabek relocated to Russia to be with the blonde.

 

Yuri desperately tried to convey how much that meant to him. He showered the brunette with kisses constantly, did his best to cook meals for him when they were home together, stripped naked every time they crawled into bed together because _all he wanted was to be as close to Otabek as possible and most people want this kind of thing anyway, right, it says so in the movies—_

 

Yuri wanted it. He _loved_ it when they were connected in the middle of it the most. And judging by the fact that Otabek slept so soundly after fucking him into the mattress and cumming inside of the blonde, Yuri figured that Otabek wanted it too.

 

Sometimes, while Otabek slept, Yuri would think about how one day they would get married. The Kazakh had seen him at his worst, time and time again, and somehow he still stayed- and really, if he could do that already, Yuri was sure that marriage was all that made sense for them.

 

Every time Yuri was at his very worst, Otabek just told Yuri that he loved him endlessly, told Yuri that he needed to be with him, and hearing Otabek reaffirm that in those moments both calmed the blonde back down every time and made him love the brunette that much more fiercely.

 

They would get married. They had to. They _had to,_ that’s how relationships as beautiful as these were supposed to be.

 

They were supposed to get married.

 

Yuri _wasn’t_ supposed to receive a phone call at one in the morning, asking him if he could come identify Otabek’s bloodied body in the aftermath of a tragic motorcycle accident.

 

Yuri told them that it couldn’t be Otabek over the phone. It just _couldn’t be._ Otabek was always so careful on his rides, there was just no way that he would end up in a situation like that—

 

except that Otabek wasn’t at fault, but his own cautiousness couldn’t accommodate for the drunk driver speeding through a stoplight and right into him.

 

Yuri puked when he saw the body on the gurney because he couldn’t even figure out how to convince himself that the mangled corpse wasn’t Otabek.

 

He wanted to tell them it wasn’t Otabek. He _desperately_ wanted to say _no, no this isn’t him, this isn’t the love of my life all cold and dead and messed up—_

But it was.

 

And it ruined Yuri.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri hated that he had chosen to become a well known ice skater now- it made killing himself a lot harder. People _noticed_ things.

 

Yuuri noticed his thousand yard stare as the casket was lowered into the ground, and unfortunately managed to grab Yuri before he could jump in and suffocate on the dirt being dumped over it.

 

Yuri suddenly hated that the Japanese man was a decent person even more than he had previously.

 

Victor noticed when Yuri seemed to be taking too long to get prepared in the locker room and caught him before he could bleed out in peace on the bench that he and Otabek once prepared for the ice on together.

 

Yuri hated that Victor only cared now that he didn’t want him to anymore.

 

Lilia noticed when he didn’t get out of bed for practice on morning, and unfortunately seemed to be familiar with the signs of an overdose.

 

Yuri hated that he was rushed to the same hospital that had collected Otabek after the accident.

 

They tried to get him to talk to someone that could help- outpatient, because admittedly Lilia saw him like a son and wasn’t willing to “dump him in some facility”, as she said to Yakov-

 

_—although if this is how moms are supposed to protect sons, then was his mother who left him so young ever really his mom—_

but Yuri wouldn’t let them help. There was no helping- Otabek was dead. He took everything, all of Yuri’s hopes, dreams, and inspiration with him. Everything Yuri had wanted for his future was dead.

 

Yuri Plisetsky was as good as dead.

 

_And he wanted to be so why wouldn’t everyone just let him go **god fucking dammit** —_

 

All he wanted to do was be with Otabek, even if that meant being dead together, and he wasn’t going to let all of this get in the way of that.

 

But as he was sitting in his bed on his phone one evening, Yuri realized perhaps he was going about this whole thing all wrong.

 

He hated how, every time he stumbled across a forum online where people were discussing good ways to kill themselves, there was that one person telling everyone not to do it for whatever tired reason they believed. This time, however, things looked a little different than usual.

 

The conversation started off pretty well- people seemed to be discussing which ways to die were the most painless, and which ways were the most effective. It seemed that the posters all knew each other, though, because eventually the conversation devolved into one of the posters mentioning they might try to go soon.

 

The typical overly optimistic voice chimed in at that point, but Yuri had to read the response a couple of times to try and figure it out. It read:

 

 

> **_nuuuuuu don’t kill urself- I will just necromance u if u do._ **

****

Admittedly, Yuri _couldn’t_ figure it out. He was pretty good at English (it is helpful to pick some up as a skater who travels often), but that last long word didn’t make sense to him.

 

He decided to search it, and his world opened up.

 

After hours online, Yuri had learned a few things:

 

  1. **Necromancy is the art of raising the dead, and can be done with witchcraft.**
  2. **Witchcraft is real- the witches who practice it say so.**
  3. **Yuri wants to use witchcraft to perform necromancy on Otabek.**



 

The “how” seemed to be the only problem. The forums online were hazy descriptions of the art at best, and historical records claimed that the dead could only be raised briefly or as ghosts.

 

It seemed so cruel of the world to dangle this in front of his nose though, and then tell him it can’t be done. Surely, it _had_ to be do-able. This was a sign to do it. What else would it be?

 

He had to figure it out- for all of the love that he had for Otabek, he had to figure it out.

 

Maybe then they could get married after all.

 

* * *

 

His research proved to be more challenging than he’d initially expected.

 

At this point he had poured over every resource that he could get his hands on. Some were just bullshit. Others seemed like they could be legitimate, but they didn’t go far enough to explain what Yuri would have to do to get the desired result, or they only offered steps for temporary fixes.

 

In his frustration, he turned to the internet once more- this time with a pseudonym, so hopefully other skaters couldn’t track his endeavors as easily.

 

He typed, deleted, and retyped his query over and over until he couldn’t take it anymore.

 

The final draft read:

 

 

> _Hello,_
> 
> _I’ve heard that necromancy can bring the dead back to life, but I can’t find any sources that explain what I would need to do in order to perform it correctly. Are there any witches here experienced in this practice that could point me in the right direction?_
> 
> _Thanks- Y.A._

 

He wished those could be his initials one day.

 

He waited.

 

The first round of responses he got were underwhelming. Quite a few mentioned Ouija Boards as his best bet, but gently tried to explain that necromancy wasn’t a real practice.

 

Unacceptable. He needed it to be real.

 

A few mentioned that perhaps he had misunderstood what necromancy meant, because the art itself often yields only temporary results by nature. They name dropped books he had already read, and he remained underwhelmed.

 

He was about to give up and try to kill himself yet again a few weeks later when a new response notification caught his eye.

 

 

> _Why do you ask? - A.Y._

Yuri drafted a private message to them. He explained how desperately he missed his tragically killed lover. He explained how he had been trying, _trying_ to kill himself just to be with him again, but somehow things just kept getting fucked up and all he wanted was for them to be together again.

 

It was sloppy-sad, poorly typed, embarrassing, and after re-reading it Yuri wasn’t about to be surprised if he never got a response.

 

Actually, he was much more surprised when he _did_ get a response.

 

 

> _You sacrifice a lot when you start down this path. Are you sure that you’re ready for that?_
> 
> _-A.Y._

Yuri responded instantly now.

 

 

> _I was just going to kill myself for him, so yes- I would sacrifice anything._
> 
> _-Y.A._

A quick response this time- A.Y. must still be online.

 

 

> _Death is peaceful. Our life is the most that we can give._
> 
> _Are you ready to give your life for him?_
> 
> _-A.Y._

Yuri had no idea what that was meant to mean, not really, but as far as he was concerned it didn’t matter. He would give anything for Otabek- that was all he had intended to say in the first place.

 

 

> _Yes._
> 
> _-Y.A._

 

There was no response for a long time. It was frustrating- logically, Yuri supposed it was possible that the individual he was corresponding with had fallen asleep, but in the back of his mind he was worried that somehow this person had sensed his inability to understand and deemed him unworthy of the knowledge that he _needed_ in order to bring Otabek back—

 

The next response came in the wee hours of the morning, after hours of agonizing.

 

It looked like his pseudo pen-pal had written him a damn novel, and his hope and anticipation suddenly returned tenfold.

 

He would have to remember to thank them for their generosity, if this worked.

 

As eager as he was though, it took time for Yuri to read and understand what he was being advised to do.

 

Part of it was that it seemed his pen-pal had a penchant for flowery language. The other part of it was that many of the instructions were oddly specific- perhaps that was to be expected though, given the nature of what he was attempting to do.

 

There were a lot of strange, specific things that the writer claimed he needed to procure- dried plants and roots, which the stranger kindly provided links for in the write up. There were also some gemstones, oils, and other natural artifacts linked in that list, which seemed superfluous perhaps, but then again so too was the idea that the living could raise the dead once more.

 

As he continued reading, the list almost became more normal somehow- chalks, candles, matches, some fruits for the day of—

 

And finally his blood. And a lot of it.

 

Yuri supposed since he’d already attempted to slash his wrists open before, that one should really be the least of his worries. Still though, his pen-pal stressed the importance of completing this aspect properly. The writer claimed it had to do with nourishment, respect, reverence- it was the final tether that tied everything together, the metaphorical handshake that sealed the deal between him, his lover, the veil and those behind it.

 

Well, admittedly the writer didn’t explain what that last bit meant. But at this point Yuri could care less- nothing frightened him more than the prospect of never being with Otabek again.

 

As he finished his own notes and his re-reading of the message, Yuri was about to type a reply when the writer contacted him again.

 

 

> _There’s one more thing I would like to tell you. I’d like to call you. We can use an online service, but I can’t put this bit into writing. Please understand, though, it’s quite necessary._
> 
> _-A.Y._

 

Yuri had to admit it sounded quite ominous, but he supposed if he’d already gotten this far there was no point in stopping now.

 

 

> _Sure. Would you like my contact information?_
> 
> _-Y.A._

Instantly, a response.

 

> _Yes. Any service is fine. I will make an account just for this._
> 
> _-A.Y._

Yuri wondered if he wasn’t talking to someone who was paranoid and a little bit delusional, but again- it was preferable to believing that he would never be with Otabek again.

 

Yuri sent the information, logged into the account, and waited into the night.

 

* * *

 

The call came some hours later, and Yuri sat up with a start. He must have been asleep, because the ringing from his laptop startled both him and Potya equally.

 

He realized if he missed this call he might miss everything, and so frantically he picked up after the next ring.

 

“Hello?” He asked, probably a little louder than necessary.

 

“ _Hi. I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. My fiancé... doesn’t always like hearing me share about these things, so I needed to let him fall asleep first.”_

The voice on the line sounded so... normal. A little androgynous, maybe (but Yuri would be one to talk if he judged them on that). Still though, they came off as rather even, not like a paranoid old woman or a gravelly, aggressive serial killer type man.

 

“It’s okay. Uh- thank you, for doing this at all I mean. Is he not into the witchcraft?” Yuri asked, wondering why in hell he was making small talk when there were such important matters at hand.

 

_“Oh, he doesn’t mind most of it. Sometimes he gives me gifts for it, like some crystals or candles and the like. This practice specifically is just a very personal subject for him.”_

The explanation left Yuri with more questions than answers, but he decided not to press any further.

 

“Ah, I see. Well, thank you again... um, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Yuri finally tried, and the voice on the other end of the phone inhaled.

 

_“Um... so you understand, in many of the old texts that have to do with this art, a body is needed to complete the ceremony.”_

Oh...

 

_“I’m... not telling you to go graverobbing, but if you can, it’s important to recover your boyfriend’s body. Do you understand?”_

 

Yuri understood. The voice on the other end of the line was trying not to explicitly tell him to break the law, but Yuri did effectively need to go graverobbing to accomplish this task.

 

He supposed he should be grateful that at least Otabek’s family didn’t believe in cremation.

 

Yuri took a deep breath and continued their conversation.

 

“...Yes. Yes, I understand. Um... what do I do, once I’ve recovered him?”

 

_“Well, you’ll want to make sure your chalk circle that you’ve drawn is large enough to accommodate the both of you. I suppose you can put him on ice in the bathtub for a day or two if you need, but it’s really best to do this as soon as possible.”_

Yuri nodded slowly.

 

“And this works?” He asked, his voice small now. He was almost afraid the voice on the other line would tell him no, that it was all a big, cruel joke, that he’d been lied to all along.

 

That’s not what happened, though.

 

_“If I didn’t know it worked myself, I wouldn’t have given you false hope.”_

The wheels in Yuri’s head were turning- _the sleeping fiancé, uncomfortable with talk about this subject-_ but his thoughts were interrupted abruptly.

 

_“I need to go now- I think he’s woke up again, he doesn’t sleep well when I’m not in bed with him. Best of luck— just message me if you need clarification on any of the items on the list, except this one.”_

“Thank you—.” Yuri managed before the call was dropped, and then spent a moment listening to the silence left behind as he contemplated their conversation.

 

He was going to need a really good shovel, his grandfather’s old truck that was willed to him, and a lot of stamina.

 

* * *

 

As the items Yuri had ordered shipped one by one, he planned.

 

He did some research on shovels, too, partially to keep himself busy and partially to locate the best one for his endeavors. He collected some blankets to wrap Otabek in for their drive home (a tarp just seemed too harsh and a body bag just seemed wrong).

 

He created the pastes and mixtures he had been instructed to make as the necessary ingredients arrived. As he did, he ate apples that were overly ripe and more pale than the usual variety (it was supposed to “help him emphasize with the dead” or something to that end). He spent a lot of time preparing the space, drawing and checking the chalk circle and symbols he’d made over and over and over while he spread the crystals and bones and herbal concoctions across it accordingly.

 

Yuri was sure he looked crazy at this point, but crazy was far better than constantly devastated.

 

He called in sick to practice the day he intended to set the plan into motion. He explained he was sick, sluggish, contagious, and he needed some rest. Doctor’s orders.

 

It was a little tongue in cheek, he supposed, because really the closest thing to a doctor he’d spoken to was a _witch doctor_ (although perhaps that term didn’t even fit), but nonetheless the excuse worked.

 

He had chills as he loaded his new shovel into the car next to him and started on his drive to the gravesite. He chalked it up to the cold, although if he’d been thinking a little more deeply he would realize that cold doesn’t start in the pit of your stomach and work it’s way outward.

 

It also doesn’t cause you to see things out the corner of your eye, or in your rear view mirror.

 

But Yuri was quite a bit sleep deprived and rather nauseous, so he tried to tell himself that this wasn’t all that unusual even though his gut tried to signal otherwise. The tiny blonde couldn’t be bothered with that, though, once he was faced with Otabek’s grave again.

 

And that’s how we came to this point of Yuri Plisetsky, digging up his boyfriend Otabek Altin’s grave in the dead of night and frantically trying to make it to him before the sun came up again.

 

Adrenaline can make the human body do incredible things, luckily for Yuri, and so he ended up making decent time on the whole endeavor. When his shovel hit the heavy wood of the coffin’s lid, he repositioned it and used it like a crowbar to pry the casket open.

 

It... was a lot harder to see Otabek like that than he expected.

 

He was beautiful, even through the decay, but so, so dead. The tears welled up in Yuri’s eyes, a knot in his throat, and he couldn’t help a few shuddering sobs as he reached in to pick the Kazakh up and cradle him in his arms the best he could.

 

It was never supposed to be like this.

 

Yuri pressed a few kisses onto him, stroking his hair and hushing him slightly as though he wasn’t dead, just wounded.

 

_“It’s going to be okay.”_ The blonde whispered, more for himself than for his lover, as he collected him and wrapped him gently in the heavy quilts he had bought.

 

He sobbed as he closed the now empty casket and hurriedly filled the grave back in, earnestly trying to keep from being too loud and possibly alerting anyone to his presence. The dirt went back into the ground much faster than it came out of it, and Yuri did his best to recover the top layer so that it looked (almost) undisturbed.

 

Hopefully no one would look too hard.

 

Exhausted from the dig, he summoned all of the strength he had left to carry both Otabek and the shovel back to the truck. Otabek was much, much lighter than he should be currently, so at least he was able to make the trek in one attempt.

 

The shovel went onto the floor of the backseat, and Otabek was gently seatbelted in before Yuri took to the driver’s seat again. The small Russian _really_ wished he had thought to bring some coffee, but he supposed the slightly aged energy drink in the glove compartment from a previous trip would have to do. He certainly couldn’t risk stopping anywhere with such precious cargo.

 

And it was a long drive home, but all Yuri could do was keep reminding himself that it would be worth it to put things back to the way that they needed to be.

 

He was almost entirely able to ignore the strange reflections in his car mirrors this time.

 

* * *

 

Sitting in the center of the chalk circle he’d drawn, Otabek cradled in his arms and in his lap, Yuri tried to collect himself.

 

He was told he had to be focused for this. Admittedly he was exhausted after the drive, the dig, the _seeing Otabek’s dead decaying body in the casket—_

 

But now he felt strangely at peace. The weight of Otabek in his arms was comforting in its own way, and he couldn’t believe he didn’t think to do this sooner.

 

He pressed his lips against the brunette again, glancing at his notes pulled up on the laptop across the room.

 

Almost everything was in place, including him and Otabek. He just needed to light the candles, begin his wish and... draw his blood.

 

The pocket knife at his side beckoned to him- Otabek’s pocket knife specifically. It had been left in the apartment the night of the crash, and it hadn’t had the chance to go missing like other tokens that Otabek had been carrying with him at the time.

 

In this moment, Yuri was grateful for that. It seemed fitting that this instrument be the one he use.

 

He realized he would need to stop reaching for the blade and light the candles before he began, and his breath hitched as he struck a match and began to light them one by one.

 

As their light illuminated the room, Yuri remembered that he as supposed to speak. _Make your intentions known,_ the instructions said, _ask for what you are seeking, and explain what you are giving for it._

Yuri breathed deep. The smell of earth and rot filled his lungs, and he shivered a little and closed his eyes while he held Otabek tighter.

 

“I... I am here because I am seeking to be reunited with Otabek Altin.” He began, voice small and slight at first. “We were supposed to get married...”

 

Silence. The candles swayed in the draft, and Yuri took another breath and tried again.

 

“I am seeking to be reunited with Otabek Altin. We will get married, and we will be together from now on wherever we go. I... offer my blood for this...”

 

He paused. The candles stood straight up at attention, and Yuri found it odd that the breeze would have stopped. He shrugged, kissed Otabek again, and reached for the pocket knife. He loosened one arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal pale scars from the last round of cuts he had made.

 

“I... I offer my blood and my life to give him life. I offer my blood and my life to keep him with me, forever.”

 

He glanced at the instructions again. He was supposed to press the cut to Otabek’s mouth to let the blood back in, and he set down the pocket knife and gently pried Otabek’s mouth open with his fingers before picking it back up.

 

“I offer my blood to give him life.” Yuri murmured now, pressing the blade into his skin and wincing as it dug in. He bit his lip, raising the now bleeding cut to Otabek’s lips and feeling it drip drops into his mouth.

 

He stared down at the brunette, maybe half expecting his eyes to open at any moment, but... nothing. Stillness. The candles stood straight up, steadily like soldiers, and Yuri bit his lip and felt the tears welling up in his eyes.

 

_“I will give anything to be with him again, please.”_ He whispered desperately this time. _“I want to be with him forever, I just need us to stay together forever, that’s all I want please, he promised he would stay with me please just let him keep his promise **please** —”_

Heavy sobs wracked Yuri’s small frame, and the blood smeared onto Otabek’s lips as he shook. He held Otabek tighter with the other arm as he whimpered.

 

_“Please. Please. Please. I’ll do anything. I just want him back with me forever, but I’ll give anything. Please.”_

 

Silence. Still candles, straight and tall, maybe taller now— mocking him?

 

How could he believe this would ever work?

 

Yuri sobbed, unable to let go of the brunette again because he had already been forced to let go once, and _maybe if he could just bleed out uninterrupted again, there would still be a chance for them to be together—_

And as Yuri lost consciousness, he wondered if maybe just dying was really how all of this worked.

 

* * *

 

When Yuri came to, the scent of freshly washed sheets and pillows filled his nose this time.

 

He sat up with a start, yanking the covers off of himself and staring down at his arm.

 

It had been cleaned and bandaged, and _who the hell had a key to his apartment and dared to interrupt him and FUCK where was Otabek—_

 

“Yura.” A firm, familiar voice started, “I don’t know what this is all about, but I am not letting you do that to yourself again. Do you understand?”

 

Otabek.

 

Otabek, in bed, next to him, looking so very _alive—_

Yuri couldn’t contain himself- he threw himself on top of the brunette, kissing him desperately and licking into his mouth to re-acquaint himself with the taste of his lover after all of this time.

 

Otabek kissed back, setting his hands on Yuri’s waist and rubbing gently like he often did, and Yuri just clung tighter and kissed harder.

 

They only broke for air when Yuri choked, but the blonde continued to pepper soft little kisses along Otabek’s mouth while he caught his breath.

 

“Yura- sweetheart I love you too, do you understand that you can’t just do that to your wrists though and what was all of that on the floor—”

 

“You were gone.” Yuri whimpered, kissing onto Otabek’s neck now, and Otabek held the blonde close.

 

“Honey I was just at the store, remember? If you don’t want me to go alone next time I won’t, I just thought you said we needed eggs for the filling but you would work on the dough...”

 

And that was when Yuri realized that Otabek clearly had no idea what had occurred.

 

“Beka?” Yuri mumbled against the crook of the man’s neck as the Kazakh stroked his hair.

 

“What is it, sweetheart?” The brunette asked gently. “Just talk to me instead of... doing that.”

 

“What day is it, Beka?” Yuri asked softly, and Beka kissed Yuri’s temple.

 

“I don’t know- I mean I’m pretty sure it’s Thursday, I just can’t remember if it’s the 26th or the 27th.”

 

“... What month?” Yuri whispered, and Beka chuckled.

 

“June, sweetheart. I suppose it’s a rather cold evening for June though.”

 

It was October.

 

June was just the last month that Otabek could remember.

 

“Beka?” Yuri started. He supposed he should tell him that it was, in fact, not June but October, but when he met his lover’s eyes it didn’t seem so pressing anymore.

 

“Yes?” Otabek replied, and instead of explaining Yuri kissed him again.

 

“I... just don’t go without me anymore.” The blonde plead, and Otabek nodded and gathered Yuri into his arms.

 

“I won’t, especially if you don’t ask me to. And I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now anyway.” The brunette offered, and Yuri kissed him again.

 

“Beka,” Yuri started, reaching down to rub at Otabek’s cock through the sleep pants that the brunette must have put on himself, “fuck me. Please.”

 

Otabek shivered at the touch, his cock twitching and hardening surprisingly quickly, and Yuri wondered if it missed him as much as Yuri missed this.

 

“Yeah.” Otabek breathed, pressing his lips against Yuri’s again and reaching a hand to squeeze Yuri’s ass. Yuri moaned, nodding eagerly into the kiss, and Otabek pulled Yuri’s shorts down off of Yuri’s hips and legs to push Yuri’s thighs apart.

 

They continued kissing, licking into each other’s mouths as Yuri stroked Otabek’s cock firmly and Otabek rubbed a finger at Yuri’s tight, warm hole. Yuri sighed, trying dutifully to relax so that Otabek could work him open enough for his thick cock, but it had been months since they’d done this last and _oops_ Yuri yelped into the kiss as Otabek’s finger sunk into his too-tight asshole.

 

Maybe he was a masochist, though- that made his own cock harden shockingly fast.

 

_“You’re so tight in here.”_ Otabek breathed heavily, voice dripping with arousal when they broke from the kiss.

 

Yuri nodded desperately and kissed him again, pumping Otabek’s cock a little as he did and earning a loud moan from the Kazakh.

 

_“Just force it open. I want you to force it open with your fingers and your cock.”_ Yuri begged, and Otabek moaned more and forced another finger into the puckered hole.

 

Yuri bit his lip, whining a little and moving his hand more vigorously over Otabek’s cock while he focused on letting Otabek’s fingers into his ass. He _needed_ Otabek inside of him, he couldn’t take being apart, he needed to be as close as he could possibly get to the brunette—

 

As Otabek started to fuck him with his fingers, Yuri couldn’t help grunting and whimpering into the kisses because _fuck_ his fingers felt huge and he sort of remembered their first time going a little like this but he supposed maybe that’s what a few months of not doing it ends up like—

 

Otabek broke the kiss this time.

 

“Fuck I forgot lube,” He mumbled, and then “I’m so sorry sweetheart, let me get that, I think we have that new container in the bathroom—”

 

But Yuri stopped him before he could move away from the blonde, shaking his head a little.

 

“I... I like it.” Yuri smiled a little, because really at this point he couldn’t deal with Otabek being apart from him for one second, and then “Can I just suck your cock?”

 

Judging by the way Otabek twitched in Yuri’s hands, it seemed as though the brunette liked that idea.

 

“Ah... please.” Otabek couldn’t help but agree, and Yuri grinned and let the brunette pull his fingers out of him before crawling between Otabek’s legs.

 

_God_ it had been too long. Yuri licked his lips a little, nuzzling against Otabek’s cock and breathing in the scent of it, and the Kazakh shivered a little at the tender intimacy of it all.

 

“I love you.” Yuri murmured softly. “Never leave me again, okay?”

 

“Yura, I love you too I promise I am never going to leave you—” Otabek started, but was cut off by his own gasp when Yuri took his cock into his mouth and licked into the tip. He gripped his clean hand into Yuri’s hair, trying to push him closer, and Yuri nodded and worked on licking under Otabek’s cock as he swallowed it.

 

“Please, _please—_ ” Otabek whined, and Yuri swallowed around him again and licked underneath his cock to try and help wet it sufficiently. It wasn’t anything compared to lube, sure, but all the same Yuri loved getting to taste the brunette’s cock before taking it inside of him—

 

The blonde hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he worked on getting Otabek off with his mouth. He sucked firmly, moaning a little for good measure because _fuck_ Otabek tasted even better now that he knew what not having him was like, and Otabek pressed his head further onto his cock. He only choked a little as he swallowed more, trying to let his lover sink his cock as deep into his mouth and throat as he wanted.

 

“Y-Yura I’m going to cum soon if we don’t—” the brunette stammered, and Yuri let Otabek’s girth slip out from between his lips now that it was thoroughly coated in saliva.

 

“I want you to come inside.” Yuri mumbled, and Otabek pressed Yuri’s back onto the mattress and pushed his soft, creamy thighs open to get in between them.

 

“Your hole is so small and pink.” The Kazakh murmured, voice laden with lust for the blonde as he pushed Yuri’s cheeks open to get a better look, and Yuri nodded.

 

“And somehow it takes your huge cock up there every time.” Yuri coos, “You just do such a good job of making it open wide.”

 

Otabek nodded desperately, now using a hand to steady his cock as he held the blonde’s soft cheeks open with his other hand.

 

“Open wide for me sweetheart.” Otabek soothed, pressing his tip against Yuri’s tight, puckered hole, and Yuri nodded and leaned back into the pillows to try and accept it in easier.

 

As the tip pressed past the tight ring of muscle Yuri cried out shrilly, legs shaking as his hole was quickly being forced open by the massive girth.

 

“You look good taking my cock.” Otabek moaned with a shuddering sigh, and Yuri nodded and bit his lip while his own cock leaked from it.

 

“Just force it in there. Make me take the whole thing, _I need to be as close to you as possible—_ ” Yuri begged, and the Kazakh pressed deeper into Yuri’s soft, warm hole.

 

Yuri wrapped his legs around Otabek’s hips when their hips were close enough, resting his calves on Otabek’s back, and Otabek leaned in to peck Yuri’s lips before burying his head in the crook of Yuri’s neck and starting to rock his hips.

 

“ _You’re so good_.” Otabek moaned, fucking Yuri’s asshole eagerly, and Yuri bit his lip and nodded while he clung to the brunette. His own cock rubbed against Otabek’s stomach, and he welcomed the friction with a light moan.

 

“D-do you know I would do anything for you?” Yuri whispered, and Otabek nodded and kissed the crook of Yuri’s neck.

 

“I love it. And I’d do anything for you, too.” Otabek managed between moans, and Yuri kissed into his hair.

 

“Never leave me again. Please. We’re supposed to get married...”

 

Tears stung Yuri’s eyes because _fuck_ now that he had Otabek back he somehow missed him even more, and Otabek finished sucking a hickey onto his neck to preface his reply.

 

“I told you I’d stay, sweetheart. I’ll stay forever, I promise. And you’d look good in one of those wedding lingerie sets Yura.” He murmured, jutting his hips harder to punctuate the point. “Can we- _fuck—_ can we do that on our wedding night, sweetheart?”

 

“I’ll get a dress and everything if that’s what you want Beka.” Yuri moaned, and Otabek reached down to stroke Yuri’s cock as he fucked his hole.

 

“And you’ll let me fuck you in that, too?” He teased as he stroked the blonde, and Yuri moaned and nodded desperately.

 

“Yes, anything, anything you want, just _stay, forever—_ ” Yuri whimpered, gasping as Otabek started another hickey.

 

“I’ll stay with you forever, Yura.” Otabek promised again, and although he didn’t know the weight that it held for Yuri the blonde just rewarded him by tightening around the brunette.

 

“ _I love you, I love you, Beka I love you, I need you—_.” Yuri moaned while Otabek touched him and fucked him harder, and Otabek moaned against his collarbone while he did.

 

“I need you too, Yura I’m yours—” Otabek tried to soothe, and Yuri just bit his lip and got tighter and _fuck_ Otabek couldn’t hold out any longer—

 

Otabek cried out and came inside of the blonde hard, and the sensation of Otabek’s warm cum filling him up bought Yuri to his own orgasm. His legs gave out and he shrieked, shuddering as the brunette filled him and as he came onto his hand.

 

They collapsed onto the mattress, still connected, and Yuri wrapped his arms around the Kazakh tightly while they both caught their breath.

 

“...Yura?” Otabek asked once he finally caught his breath, and Yuri kissed his forehead in response.

 

“Beka.” He crooned, starting to stoke the brunette’s hair, and the man nuzzled against him.

 

“Was all of... that, your wrists, the floor, was that because you thought I wasn’t coming back?” He asked.

 

It was, although in this moment Otabek couldn’t understand the gravity of it.

 

“Yes.” Yuri offered, and he did not elaborate any further at that point.

 

Otabek just nodded, kissing Yuri’s jaw and snuggling against him.

 

“I just won’t leave you alone again. If we need to go, we will go together. But I won’t leave you alone again, even if it seems like it’s not a big deal to you.” The brunette soothed, and Yuri nodded as a fresh round of tears coated his cheeks.

 

“I’ll stay right here.” The Kazakh murmured, kissing Yuri’s neck. “And we’ll get married. But one day, maybe you’ll understand that there’s nothing that can keep me from you.”

 

Yuri smiled gently, sniffling a little and hiccuping as he kissed Otabek’s forehead.

 

“I think maybe I’m starting to.” Yuri mumbled.

 

“Good.” Otabek praised, curling against the blonde and settling in for a nap in the afterglow.

 

And Yuri was about to join him, but the shadowy figure clinging to the wall sufficiently startled him back awake. He tried to stay still as he could, to not let Otabek notice his pounding heart, and he wondered if maybe this was part of what he gave to be with his lover again.

 

As horrific as the thing now crawling onto his ceiling was, it was still worth it to be with Beka.

 

* * *

 

Admittedly, Yuri hadn’t quite planned how he was going to explain Otabek’s return before this whole endeavor.

 

The lie he ended up telling everyone was that he’d misidentified the body they saw. He said Otabek had actually wrecked in a different location entirely and had been in a coma in a different hospital. He collected the brunette as soon as the doctors identified Otabek and contacted him.

 

Otabek didn’t question Yuri’s account of the events- it explained the missing time, and how he woke up being held by Yuri in their apartment, and why Yuri would have been so freaked out by the situation that he would resort to such drastic and strange self mutilation. Clearly Otabek was just heavily medicated during the incident and didn’t remember the drive home.

 

It also explained how he didn’t remember getting the scar that appeared on his arm, almost exactly identical to Yuri’s wound- he chalked that up to an injury he sustained from the crash, although he had to admit the symmetry was astounding.

 

But he supposed that sometimes when someone is your soulmate, things such as this can happen. Or maybe Yuri just imitated his scar.

 

At any rate- Yuri was glad that no one seemed to ask any further questions.

 

The now supposed “John Doe” casket was exhumed from Otabek’s grave marker. Yuri was relieved that it hadn’t been opened on site- hopefully, they would figure the body was lost in transit somehow when they opened the casket in another location.

 

It was all okay now- they were together again, and Yuri was not letting Otabek be another loss in his life because they would stay together forever now.

 

It was all so very worth it, Yuri thought as he pressed a kiss into Otabek’s hair. The brunette had fallen asleep against his chest while they were watching a movie on the couch. Potya had stationed herself next to them- although truly, she had been mostly following Otabek around since his return.

 

It seemed that she missed him when he’d been absent.

 

The blonde smiled and glanced at the clock. He couldn’t help but be glad he wasn’t competing this season, because even though he continued his training regimen he could be a little more lenient with his schedule. It would be well past his bedtime if he was working towards the season’s competitions.

 

He had taken this year off because of the accident originally, but now that he had Otabek back in his arms he needed it even more. He needed to drink in every second of being with the man he loved.

 

And admittedly, he also needed to figure out how to stop being distracted by the shadowy, distorted figures that lurked nearby him wherever he went, including on the ice.


End file.
